“Wow.” It was all I could get out past the blood pounding in my ears.
The three of them looked at each other and passed some primal communication that I could not interpret. “Don’t forget the chip from Bresheu,” Brill reminded me.
“We’ll see you at the lock in five ticks,” Diane added.
“We know where you sleep,” Bev warned me as they left.
I sighed and put on my civvies. Straightening my jacket in the mirror, I grimaced at the guy looking back at me. He did not seem too pleased with what he saw either. With any luck, he would be wearing something a bit more presentable to wear when I got back.
When I got to the lock, Sean had the duty. “Good luck, Ish.” His face twisted into a mischievous grin as I signed out.
“Are you coming?” Bev asked.
Sean shrugged helplessly and I waved to him as they escorted me out of the ship.
Brill asked, “Do you have the chip?”
I pulled it out and held it up. “Right here.” As I slipped it back into my pocket, I saw their eyes following it the whole time with a kind of hungry reverence.
Seeing them again, I almost turned and retreated into the ship. If the lock had not already started to cycle closed, I might have bolted. There did not seem to be quite enough oxygen in the docking bay and the stinging cold was not helping my feeling of sudden overload as Bev’s body responded to the temperature under that silky chemise.
“Now that we have your attention,” Brill said, arching an eyebrow, “shall we go?” She turned and led the way, while Bev and Diane waited to block my retreat. I took a deep breath and followed her to the lift. I was very aware of how nicely tailored the slacks were and wished, just a little, that her jacket were a bit shorter. I could hear Beverly and Diane striding along side by side just behind me, not quite in step, but very close to it.
At the lift, Brill stopped and held the door while Diane and Bev ushered me into the car. As I turned I could see a half dozen people staring after us before the metal doors cut off the view. We had walked right through the group of them, and I had not even noticed. Judging from the looks, they had noticed us.
The lift stopped at level eleven and the doors slid apart revealing the posh opulence of the upper deck. Brill strode out over the lush carpeting without looking back. She did not need to. The possibility of me not following her was as remote as a planet suddenly breaking from its orbit. At that moment, I understood the concept of magnetic personality in a whole new way. Besides, I had the impression that Bev and Diane were prepared, and able, to carry me should I balk.
As we walked down the nicely appointed corridor, the feeling of being completely at the mercy of these three powerful, brilliant, gorgeous, sexy women almost overpowered me. I could barely breathe. It scared the hell out of me, but I also realized just how much I enjoyed it. I felt like I was riding a roller coaster without seatbelts.
Near the front of the shop I caught sight of us as a group reflected in the glass. Brill, the statuesque goddess, strode the deck like some modern-day Valkyrie. Diane and Bev were in escort position one step behind me and offset one left and the other right. I was in the middle and did not feel so much like a prisoner but kind of protected. I straightened up and tried to walk with a bit more confidence. If these magnificent women thought I was worth protecting, then I wanted to at least pretend to be worthy. The glimpse was over in a flash as we hit the double doors and Brill sailed through them and into Chez Henri.
Chez Henri was nothing like what I thought of when I pictured a shop in my mind’s eye. I immediately realized that I was way out of my league. Upon entering, I noticed there were no displays of any kind. There were not even any mannequins. The entry consisted of just a podium where a woman wearing a tweed suit stood and peered at us over antique-looking half-glasses. Doors flanked her on either side. The whole set up reminded me of a posh restaurant. Sizing us up with a glance she addressed Brill. “Good afternoon, madam, do you have a reservation?”
Brill is not easily intimidated, especially not by tweed-suited receptionists. “We’d like to see Monsieur Roubaille,” she said with a cool smile.
The receptionist was a pro and merely smirked. “Many people would, madam, but without a reservation, I am afraid it is quite impossible.”
“Excuse me,” I spoke for the first time since leaving the ship and with what I hoped was considerably more confidence than I felt. “My name is Ishmael Wang and Monsieur Bresheu said I should pay a visit when I arrived in Dunsany.” I produced the chip and held it up.
“Impossible. Bresheu is in St. Cloud,” the woman said dismissively, thrown off by my interruption.
“And, as it happens, we have just arrived from there.”
Brill slid smoothly aside and I stepped forward.
“If you would be so kind as to pass this on to Monsieur Roubaille, we can wait.” I handed her the chip.
She took it between thumb and finger as if suspicious of its cleanliness and turned it so the flowery B was visible on the casing. She controlled her emotions well, but her eyes flared slightly as her eyes focused on the chip. She looked first at me and then at each of the women with a new kind of uncertainty.
“Of course, Monsieur,” she said finally with a small nod in my direction. “I’ll be but a moment.”
She disappeared through the door on the right. I looked behind me and saw Beverly and Diane arranged so they could watch the entry while Brill was standing off to the side with a small, satisfied smile. She winked once quickly and gave the tiniest of nods.
I could hear the voices coming from behind the door even before it burst open and a thin man rushed into the entry with the receptionist in tow. “Mr. Wang?” he said, looking at me. “My name is Henri Roubaille. Welcome to my shop. How may I help you today?”
“Bon jour, Monsieur. As you can see, I am in need of some more suitable clothing.”
“Certainly, if you would please step this way?” he indicated where the receptionist held the door open and swept us into the inner sanctum.
I followed him through the door and Brill, Diane and Beverly trailed me. We entered into a smallish room with sofas and easy chairs arranged artfully around a coffee table. To be honest, I had no idea what to expect, but it was not this. I had yet to see a single garment that was not already in use and I grew more confused as each tick passed.
“Please, have a seat.” He swep t a hand at the chairs. Brill nodded to Diane and Bev who sat together on one sofa while she took one of the side chairs. I followed and took the seat she had indicated with her eyes. M. Roubaille stood in attendance at the front of the room and, after a few ticks of pleasantry on the subject of refreshments, began the serious business. “How may I serve you this afternoon, Monsieur?”
Brill spoke while I was still trying to figure out what I was doing. “M. Wang needs an outfit, Monsieur. We visited Bresheu in St. Cloud but ran out of time before he could decide and M. Bresheu graciously provided the introduction to you.”
M. Roubaille paid particular attention to Brill but his eyes periodically tracked to Diane and Beverly as well. “And do we know what kind of outfit? Formal? Evening wear? Day wear?”
“Casual, multipurpose, suitable for business or a dinner with a colleague,” she replied instantly. “Something that fits him. Perhaps a suit or some other ensemble.” She smiled and finished with, “That is why we have come to you, Monsieur.”
I heard the words, but I did not understand the message that Brill had just given M. Roubaille. Apparently, he did because he gave a little bow to her and said, “Of course.” He turned to me and asked, “Shall we begin, Monsieur?” He held out his open hand indicating a passage to the side. I stood and followed him.